


Nothing Like Your Blood On My Hands

by NyomiOwahama



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Happier Than It Sounds I Promise, M/M, Porn with some plot, Reincarnation AU, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 10:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyomiOwahama/pseuds/NyomiOwahama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Munakata and Suoh meet in multiple lives, but no matter how Reisi tries, the other always slips through his fingers. Until he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like Your Blood On My Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmeraldWaves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaves/gifts).



> It has been forever since I've written anything, so this was a good exercise. Also EmeraldWaves gave me the best prompts I had trouble picking, but MikoRei owns my soul so I went with that. Hope you enjoy~

Reisi Munakata thinks the universe has a sick sense of humor. 

Normally, he wouldn’t be this cynical, but the lack of recognition in the redhead’s eyes is enough to make him so. He’d caught sight of the other through the window of a coffee shop and nearly spilled his drink rushing out the door to stop him. Except when he’d called out his name, the man had turned around, only to stare blankly back at him.

Now, they’re standing across from each other, not speaking. Reisi looks down at his hands to break the tension. It doesn’t help. He has to shut his eyes to keep from seeing blood smeared across his fingers, blood from another life.

“Sorry, I must have been mistaken,” Reisi manages to mutter, turning to hurry away, away from Mikoto Suoh and all the memories of him.

Suoh catches his wrist. Of course he does. The man could never just let anything be. The warmth spreads along his arm. He was always so warm. It stops Reisi from pulling away.

“How’d you know my name?” Suoh grunts, words slightly muddled through the cigarette in his mouth.

Reisi huffs an annoyance and turns back around. He finally tugs his wrist away and crosses his arms. “Lucky guess,” he says lamely.

“Look, if you wanted a date, you just had to ask,” Suoh replies, voice smooth. Then he sends him that characteristic lazy smirk. 

Reisi melts. “And if I did want one, would you indulge?” He asks, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at the redhead in front of him.

“Well,” his voice draws Reisi’s gaze and he watches the other looking him up and down, “Why not.” Mikoto digs around one of his pockets and then grabs Reisi’s hand again, scratching something on his wrist in bright red pen. “Just give me a call.”

It takes Reisi a week to call the number scrawled on his arm (he washed it off almost immediately, after copying it down in his address book.)

“Mikoto Suoh,” he answers.

“You said I should give you a call,” Reisi says, ignoring the pounding of his heart in his chest.

“Took you long enough,” Suoh drawls, “Tonight at eight work?”

“Where?”

“You know the bar called Kings?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you there.” And he hears the click.

“Still no manners,” Reisi grunts before goes to his closet to pick out proper attire. He hadn’t had much of a chance for dating in his previous life, nor in this one, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make an attempt.

Suoh, of course, doesn’t bother dressing up, in his usual white t-shirt and baggy pants. Reisi is glad he decided to go for casual. It feels almost familiar, as they take a seat next to each other at the bar. They order drinks, finish them, and order seconds, all the while making small talk. Reisi doesn’t know how to talk to him, not when he doesn’t seem to remember anything.

Then Suoh snorts suddenly, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling.

Reisi scowls automatically at the sound, “What?”

“I just realized I never asked your name. You already knew mine, so I forgot.”

“Munakata. Reisi Munakata.”

“Munakata,” Suoh rolls the name, as if tasting it in his mouth. It sounds like a purr and makes Reisi involuntarily shiver. He pauses, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He takes one out then offers the pack to Reisi. Reisi accepts, perching the cigarette in his lips until Suoh lights it with a fancy Zippo that makes Reisi long for his red aura despite himself.

“So Munakata,” Suoh says, “How’d you come to know me?”

“You’re hard to miss,” Reisi says offhandedly, taking a long drag on the cigarette, letting the smoke settle in his lungs.

“Oh yeah, guess the hair does stand out.”

“Not what I meant.”

“I know.”

They meet each other’s eyes, and even if there isn’t recognition in Suoh’s, there is understanding. That’s enough. Reisi finds himself relaxing between the alcohol in his system and Suoh’s steady presence. Then suddenly, it’s easy to fall into conversation, about each other, about their lives here.

Reisi frowns as he checks his watch, another cigarette perched between his fingers. They’ve been here a few hours now. “I suppose I should let you go, after keeping you so long,” he says with some reluctance.

“I don’t know. You could come back to my place?” Suoh leers, lazy smirk plastered on his face.

“And if I’m not interested?” Reisi asks, pretending not to see the way Suoh’s looking at him.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Reisi sighs as Suoh’s words settle in his stomach. He stubs his cigarette in the ashtray, “Alright, let’s go.”

They leave the bar. Reisi makes Suoh pay for propriety’s sake. Suoh had always paid, usually for property damage, but that’s beside the point. They walk down the street, close enough their shoulders occasionally brush. Reisi looks up, past the street lamps, at the sky and allows a smile to ghost his face.

He hears the gunshot before he realizes what has happened. He jerks at the sound, and then Suoh is falling beside. He stares, eyes not believing the image in front of him. Reisi has seen violence, lived it. This still takes him by surprise. 

Instinct catches up with him. He drops to the ground, gripping the Suoh’s injured body. He shouts at a passerby to call 911 as Suoh’s blood stains his hands again. He returns his gaze to the redhead, in time to watch the life leave his eyes.

After that, Reisi stops trying. When in another life, another time, he sees Mikoto Suoh again, he turns around and walks the other way. Bile builds in his throat, but he’s had two lifetimes of that man dying in his arms. He doesn’t want a third. 

Then he hears it. 

The honk of a car horn. Screeching wheels. A loud thud.

He wheels around and can see even from afar the body, or what once was the body, of Mikoto Suoh. He stands there and stares, then forces his feet to carry him away, and pretends his vision is blurring in anger, and nothing else.

They go through every possible outcome. Reisi isn’t always there, but he always hears about it, somehow or another. He sees one death in the newspaper, a simple obituary. In the life he’s a doctor, Suoh ends up on his operating table and dies beneath his hands. A television broadcast of a man murdered.

Each time his eyes blur and his throat closes up. It doesn’t get easier.

Lives later, he’s sitting at a bar, not unlike Homra, or the bar they’d had a date in lifetimes ago. Reisi takes a long drink at those memories. He has spent ages dwelling on Mikoto Suoh, he doesn’t want to spend another second.

He feels someone sit on the barstool next to his, but he doesn’t look up from his drink. “You waitin’ on someone?” A gruff voice asks and Reisi stills.

Oh yes, the universe is sick. Cruel.

He grits his teeth, “No, but I’m not interested in company.” 

“Liar.”

Reisi turns and glares at Suoh, sitting there so nonchalantly. Rage boils in his veins. “And what,” he hisses, “Makes you think you’re qualified to make that assumption?”

“Because if you weren’t interested, you wouldn’t be sitting here at the bar,” Suoh says with a slight tilt of his head, indicating the empty dark corner at the back of the bar. He chooses to be perceptive at the worst of times.

Reisi resists the urge to toss the rest of his drink in the redhead’s face. That would be a complete waste of perfectly good liquor. “I am not in the mood,” he mutters as he finishes off the remainder of his whiskey.

“Would another drink put you in the mood?” Suoh asks, seeming untouched by the death-look Reisi is sending his way.

“If you pay for my first two,” Reisi says.

Suoh meets his eyes, the deep red seeming to stare right into his soul. “Deal,” he agrees with a lazy smirk.

Reisi drinks too much, which he can’t even blame on Suoh, since the man tells him to stop drinking after his fourth, but he has another, just to prove that he can. Now, if he turns his head too fast the room spins.

“Come on.”

“What?” Reisi asks, jerking his head back to Suoh, who comes into focus after a moment.

“Come home with me,” Suoh offers, looking too warm in Reisi’s slightly blurred vision. Even the alcohol pooled in his stomach is telling him not to go, that he’ll regret it, that this is a mistake.

He chooses the mistake. He follows Suoh out of the bar.

They stumble into Suoh’s apartment, the lights all off. The night air had considerably sobered him, enough that he had trembled the whole way, expecting the man to once again get dragged from him, as he was the first time. As soon as the door shuts, Reisi crashes their lips together and shoves him against the wall. Suoh’s hands fall to his hips, gripping them tightly before flipping them around and pinning Reisi to the wall. Reisi gasps and Suoh’s tongue plunges into his mouth, where they battle for domination. A battle which Reisi ultimately gives up, shaking in the other’s arms.  
Suoh pulls away, leaving Reisi panting as the redhead moves to mark up his neck, like the beast Reisi has always called him. Suoh scrapes his teeth along the fragile skin, and Reisi grips Suoh’s shirt tightly, balling it up in his fists. Once he regains his sense, he tugs the material up, forcing Suoh to pull back and allow Reisi to yank the shirt up over his head. Suoh starts grabbing at Reisi’s shirt, fumbling with the buttons.

Reisi manages to catch his hands, his shirt already hanging loose at his shoulders from the buttons the redhead’s managed to get undone. “I’m not fucking in your entryway,” he says, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. 

Suoh shrugs and gives a grunt to indicate his agreement. Then he hoists Reisi up from the ground by his hips, forcing Reisi to wrap his legs around him or cause them both to fall. Reisi opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a moan as Suoh returns to attacking his neck.

Suoh manages to get them to the bedroom, dropping Reisi unceremoniously on the bed. Reisi takes the opportunity to remove his glasses and place them on the nightstand, lest the redhead do something ridiculous and end up breaking them. When he turns back, Suoh’s hands are on the remaining buttons of his shirt. It doesn’t take him long to push the offending material off Reisi’s shoulders.

Reisi meets Suoh in an open-mouthed kiss as the redhead moves down to work him out of his pants. Suoh presses against Reisi’s groin as he works, making him moan into the other’s mouth. He peels the clothing off, tossing it off the bed. Normally Reisi would complain about the wrinkles, but Suoh gives a pull on his cock and the thought disappears.

“What do you want?” Suoh asks, stroking Reisi lazily, as though he has all the time in the world, which would be fine if Reisi wasn’t utterly convinced they didn’t.

“Fuck me, you ass,” Reisi snaps with a lack of bite, his voice too breathy to come off as threatening. Suoh laughs and that calms him. “Alright, alright,” he says, pulling away from Reisi. He rolls onto his belly, anxiety or alcohol churning in his stomach suddenly, and drops his head onto the pillow in front of him.

Reisi hears the other’s pants fall to the floor and the nightstand drawer roll open. Suoh returns a moment later, a wet and chilled hand sneaking between Reisi’s legs. Some of the still-cold lube drips onto his thigh and makes him shiver. “Sorry,” Suoh mumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of Reisi’s shoulder, but he can feel the smirk on his skin.

“No you aren’t,” Reisi replies, breath hitching as Suoh presses one slick fingers inside.

Suoh chuckles, “You’re right, I’m not.” He works in another finger, scissoring them. Reisi counts his breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Then Suoh curls his finger, stroking and rubbing across a spot that leaves Reisi squirming and crying out in pleasure. He vaguely hears Suoh chuckle above him, but it gets lost as the redhead continues to move his fingers.

Finally, he manages to speak, “T-that’s enough.” Suoh stops, fingers sliding out of him with a wet pop that makes Reisi frown with distaste. He lies there, waiting, until it becomes apparent Suoh isn’t moving. He scowls, turning his head, “Will you get on with-” Suoh cuts him off, hands gripping him with bruising force in order to turn him onto his back. He resettles himself between Reisi’s legs. “Wanna see you,” he grunts in explanation. Then he’s moving forward, pressing inside and Reisi can’t think, much less speak a retort.

Suoh hovers above him, eyes clenched shut as they both adjust. After a moment, Suoh opens his eyes, red boring down into Reisi’s blue. He gulps and gives a shaky nod, then Suoh starts moving, pulling all the way out and pushing back in. Reisi moans, one hand clenching the sheets, while the other reaches up to grab Suoh’s shoulder. As Suoh increases the pace, he leans down and crashes their lips together. The kiss is spit and teeth, and everything Reisi would hate with anyone but the man above him. Then, Suoh’s hand snakes between them and starts stroking Reisi in time with his thrusts. It isn’t long before Reisi comes with a cry of Suoh’s name, and Suoh follows shortly after, shuddering.

Suoh drops off beside him, leaving a heavy arm draped over Reisi’s chest. He moves to roll out of bed, already feeling the mess between them start to dry. The weight of Suoh’s arm seems to increase. “Worry about it tomorrow,” he grunts, already sounding half-asleep. Despite his better sense, Reisi sinks back down and curls into Suoh’s side.

The next morning, he wakes, still in Suoh’s arms. It feels right.


End file.
